


Burning a Fever

by elliebird



Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, F/M, Foot Massage, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26818876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebird/pseuds/elliebird
Summary: Written for akinkmeme prompt:  Andy lets Booker bathe her feet.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Booker | Sebastien le Livre
Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953913
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Burning a Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4 of Kinktober. Written for the prompt "feet" from [this list](https://lustyargonianmaid.tumblr.com/post/187565391163/october-is-approaching-which-means-it-is-almost).

Andy hisses as she sets her feet in the bucket of scalding water. 

“Too hot?” Booker asks, an apology on the tip of his tongue. 

“No,” she replies with a sigh, sinking into the ancient armchair. She pushes her feet further into the water until she’s submerged to her ankles. “I have a cut,” she mumbles, something almost embarrassed in the way she averts her eyes. Even now, months later, Andy gets apologetic about her mortality. Proof of it in the bruises and scrapes on her skin makes her vulnerable. 

“Let me see,” Booker says roughly. He sinks to his spot on the floor, on his knees before Andy. 

“I’m fine, Book.” The words are quiet, tinged with exhaustion, but she humors him and lets him grip her by the foot. 

He’s careful as he inspects the place where her skin is red. Wordlessly he wets a rag and carefully washes her skin, from the bone of her ankle to her Achilles’ heel, the arch of her foot and the sensitive spot beneath her toes.

There’s a small bedroom at the back of the house they’re camped out in, lying low until Copley can get them the information and coordinates they need. They retreat here for this, something that began as a bit of a joke, Andy indulging Booker’s almost desperate desire for punishment, to pay for his betrayal. 

“You want to make it up to me?” She’d said, several days after he’d been welcomed back into the fold. He’d spent those days like a skittish colt, cautious, unsure they wouldn’t change their minds and kick him out again. “You can wash my feet,” she told him, expecting him to brush her off. 

Instead, he’d taken her at her word. The first night, she sat at the edge of an old claw foot tub as Booker bathed her like it was important, like there was nothing _more_ important than washing Andy’s feet, caring for her and proving through actions that his contrition was real. 

Booker has long since been forgiven. The five of them have come together stronger than before, with Nile anchoring them. For whatever reason - the growing heat between them, the peace Booker gets from being on his knees for Andy - these weekly moments between them persist.

The first time, Andy was fully dressed in blood-stained jeans shoved up her calves. It was Booker on his haunches, asking for forgiveness in each press of the cloth against her sore feet, his thumbs in the arch of her sole. It was Andy thanking him with a chaste brush of her lips on his cheek, pretending to miss the flush on Booker’s skin and the hard shape of his cock in his sweats. 

Booker releases Andy’s foot and reaches for the other. The air in the bedroom is hot. The tension between them has nothing to do with Booker’s mistakes, charged with years of unspoken attraction they’ve slowly begun to acknowledge. 

Booker’s been hard since he sank to his knees. 

They’ve been building to this for the last several weeks. At first it was more subtle. The first time Andy rested a foot on Booker’s thigh, toes almost but not _quite_ touching his cock. The following week when she changed into a pair of shorts, all of her bare skin on display, thighs spread wide as Booker averted his eyes form the juncture of her legs, despite Andy wanting them on her. And here they are now, with Andy stripped down to her black panties and matching tank top as Booker drinks in the sight of her, working the aches and tension from the soles of her feet.

Andy does her share of looking. Booker’s wearing old sweats and a threadbare t-shirt. The outline of his erection is impossible to miss. She’s appraising, quiet except for the occasional sigh when Booker digs his thumb in just the right place. 

Booker has spent the last weeks waiting. They both know Andy’s in charge here. He’ll take anything she wants to give him, will gladly spend the rest of the years she has left right here on his knees for her. 

Andy lifts her foot from the water and drapes her leg over Booker’s shoulder. Like this, he can tell she’s aroused, can smell how wet she is for him. 

He hesitates for a second, eyes on hers, before turning his cheek to press a kiss to the soft inside of her knee. 

“Yes,” she says, giving him all the permission he’s going to get. She sinks lower, pushing her hips to the edge of the chair and waits for Booker.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) I'm on [Tumblr](https://elliebirdthings.tumblr.com/).


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